


In the Morning

by salvadore



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, PWP, Yuletide, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-07 21:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5472038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvadore/pseuds/salvadore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John comes back from France, and he and Alexander have some issues to bang out. Pun intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [novembersmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/novembersmith/gifts).



> Happy yuletide! Here's some semi-historically inaccurate pwp to wish you a happy holidays because you're such a dear ♥ 
> 
> Implied references to real letters from Hamilton to Laurens. I hope it reads easily without that knowledge but in case, [here's a start.](http://rictornorton.co.uk/hamilton.htm)

What rouses John that morning is an intimate touch. As of late his bed has been occupied by him alone, but not this morning. The whisper of lips and warm breath on his skin brings John from the lightest of sleeping with a shiver and a groan. Under sheets, John shudders and turns into the press of lips against his own as a firm grip wraps as best it can around the muscle of his thigh. It is as though his waking had given permission for a weightier touch, and it leaves him in need of air.

John keeps his eyes shut. Even as he reaches out toward those lips, traces them with his thumbs, running his fingers northward. His touch is reverent on cheekbones as lips press gentle kisses to his wrist. John curls his fingers through and around long hair as he's kissed. He holds on when those lips part from his, travelling south to leave intimate opened mouthed kisses their wake. At the sound of a warm, familiar chuckle smothered against his skin, John shivers but keeps his eyes shut. It's not because he knows they forgot to shut the curtains the night before. It's not the certainty of his head pounding in hangover. What keeps his eyes shut until is fear that it won't be Alexander lying against his side when he does.

But there he is.

"Alexander," John says softly in greeting.

Alexander lifts his head to reveal his grin. His hair runs through John's fingers. It's a tangled, dark mess in need of wash but John doesn't mind how it combs through his fingers when Alexander moves. John, fingers intertwined with Alex's hair, presses his the back of his hand to to Alexander’s jaw and then against his neck. Alexander's skin is warm. When Alexander swallows down ten thousand words, John feels it. He feels him breathe in just enough to say one. "John-"

“Were you serious?” John asks, staring up at Alexander, enamored.

They’d been drunk on their reunion and several pints of Sam Adams. John remembers taking a shot to steel himself against the press of hot hands on his hips. Alexander's face had been flushed and he'd pressed in too close to whisper in John's ear. And for the first time since Alexander's wedding, they'd found themselves stumbling into bed. Alexander drunk and eager as he asked about his letters. Had John read them, Alexander had asked, using his body to press John against the door. Impossibly sincere as he reiterated his promise from the letter that reached John in Pennsylvania. And Alexander leaned down and in as he spoke, placing them close enough to kiss. And close enough to get caught. Alexander had pressed his hand just about John's heart and said, "I've missed you, my dear John," and John was done in. John had taken him to bed much like he had their first time.

Back then, so long ago it felt now, a drunken Alexander had said he needed a bed for the night. An equally inebriated John had promised Alex his own, drawing him in with a finger hooked in Alexander’s shirt as he flirted. John remembers that first kiss. How Alexander had grabbed him, more energy than finesses as he bumped John’s head against a wall in his haste to get their lips together. John had guided the way to his bed then too.

The Alexander of now, rolls to lean over John, all traces of smugness lifted as he says sincerely, “You are dear to me, John. I’ve told Eliza that and more.”

John is in motion before Alexander finishes speaking, hands on Alexander’s skin as Alexander says, “You are both dear to me. I love you both.”

Interrupting Alexander by drawing him in will always be one of John’s favorite actions he is allowed and he indulges himself now. John bites at Alexander’s lower lip to stop him talking. He rolls them over so he can grind down against Alexander to watch him draw in a surprised breath.

The bright morning light is a blessing when it’s shining on Alexander, suddenly speechless and grasping at John to hold on as they kiss. There’s still so much they should be concerned with. And John has no idea where to begin the discussion of his sharing the Hamilton marriage bed with both Hamilton’s. But he hopes there’s time after this morning for it. Watching the play and tension of Alexander’s muscles at the first touch to his erect cock is immediately important.

Alexander kisses with desperation, sucking and licking like he might not get another chance. Jon remembers a phrase a drunk Angelica Schuyler had used in speaking of Alexander. He presses his whole hand against Alexander’s stomach, can feel him sucking in breath as John's other hand touches him teasingly. John kisses along Alex’s jaw and thinks yes, hungerpanged does suit the man.

“John,” Alexander whines. His hands are on either side John’s face; his thumbs draw across the tender skin beneath John’s tired eyes. And Alexander’s eyes are so searing in their inspection, John can’t help the blossoming sense of pride when his touch, one firm jack of Alexander’s cock, has Alexander biting his lip and momentarily unfocused.

John takes his time teasing. He kisses away the sweat that gathers at Alexander’s temples as he eases teases Alexander with climax before easing off. He relies on the way Alexander whines and kicks out his shaking legs to know they’re nearly at the end of this game. And Alexander’s patience.

When it breaks Alexander rolls them over, panting and lips wrecked and red as he straddles John. The bed rocks and creaks under the sudden action. His hair is in disarray and he’s beautiful as he speaks in a low hoarse tone, “I want you to fuck me, John.”

“Soon,” John promises, just as desperate for it now, surging up into a kiss. Now he can feel Alexander’s heart pounding if he were to press his fingers to Alexander’s throat.

John drags his nails down Alexander’s back and hears his hiss of pleasure before bare teeth are set in warning against his shoulder. Seated the way they are, every touch to Alexander draws touches against John's skin as well. He reacts as much as Alexander, shuddering as much as he brushes his own cock in jerking Alexander off.

John thinks for a quick second of Eliza there, a calmer force between them in the sheets as he imagines her. Maybe at Alexander's back, helping John reduce Alexander to this: flushed and needy with it. Alexander whispers dirty phrases to John and John thinks about Eliza saying them. Or maybe them saying such things to John, together, the tables turned and John the desperate one.

John kisses Alexander hard.

They break only to breathe and on one breath John whispers, "I love you too," against Alexander's cheek. Alexander shudders in climax between them.


End file.
